Revelations
by demonkatgurl17
Summary: Derek saves Stiles from himself and makes a discovery in the process. Set a few days after "Even If It Hurts". Second in the "Jagged" series.


Derek strode swiftly down the hall to E.R.'s waiting room. There was only one person inside it, but he still scanned the room before walking over to Scott, who sat hunched forward in his chair with his elbows on his knees, staring at nothing.

Cautiously, he sat in the chair beside the teen, taking stock of his feelings within seconds by his scent and the sound of his heartbeat.

"How is she?" Derek asked softly.

He had been having dinner in his loft with Jennifer when Scott had called him, upset. Apparently a deer had run out in front of his mom's car and she had swerved to avoid it, slamming the nose of her car into a tree. There had been a head injury and some internal bleeding from the impact and she had been rushed into surgery.

It had taken Derek all of ten minutes to get to the hospital and from the look of it Scott's mom was still in surgery.

Scott's shoulder moved in an aborted shrug, still staring blankly ahead. "Not sure yet. The doctor said she was fairly stable when they took her in, so I guess that's good. No one's really said much else yet."

Derek nodded and sat back. The air was thick with the smell of disinfectant and it reminded him of when he used to visit his uncle while he was still comatose, burned and dead to the world. He fervently hoped Mrs. McCall came out of it okay.

"I think it was them," Scott said absently. He sounded half out of it, like he was in shock.

Which Derek thought was probably. His mom was about all Scott had left. Losing her would devastate Scott. Or royally piss him off.

"The Alpha pack?" Derek asked, voicing his own suspicions. It certainly sounded like their style, considering all the freak animal attacks that happened months ago when the Alphas had surfaced. Scott nodded and looked like he was about to say something when the sound of footsteps came from down the hall. They stared at the doorway, both at the ready on the edge of their seats, but the man who came around the corner wasn't wearing scrubs.

He was wearing a police uniform.

Sheriff Stilinski nearly paused at the sight of Derek, but continued his approach until he stood a few feet away from Derek and Scott. "How is she?" he asked Scott, his face drawn with worry.

Tension draining out of him, Scott sat up in his chair and sighed, passing a hand through his hair. "Okay, I guess. They haven't said much since they took her into surgery."

The Sheriff nodded, glancing curiously (and almost suspiciously) at Derek. "That's a good sign. I, um…I was the first responder on the scene. I'd have come sooner, but Officer Berkley was about half an hour away and I had to wait for him to take over for me before I could leave so…" he trailed off, looking anxious. He looked around the waiting room. "Where's Stiles?" he asked, confused when he saw no evidence of his son in the room.

Scott startled minutely at the question. "Uh, he's at my house. He was out like a light when I got the call so I just let him sleep. No reason for both of us to have to sit in these chairs." He smiled weakly, attempting to lighten the mood.

They really _were_ awful. Derek's back was starting to ache and he'd only been sitting in them for a few minutes.

The Sheriff didn't seem very pacified. "If you're sure… I thought he'd be here. Didn't expect you to be," the Sheriff's attention redirected to Derek, who made sure to keep his expression blank and calm even though his nerves were on edge.

Being on the wrong side of the law a few times had made him paranoid.

"Scott called me. I came for moral support," Derek said. Which he was.

Sheriff Stilinski looked between Derek and Scott, considering. "I guess you two worked things out?" He was fishing, clearly suspicious of their friendship—with good reason. Scott _had_ twice labeled him a murderer. Most people would be hard pressed to get over that kind of bad blood.

"Yeah," Scott said. "Uh, water under the bridge. We're good now."

His skepticism evident, the Sheriff nodded to himself before pointing with his thumb back towards the hallway. "Okay, well, I'm gonna find the head nurse and see if they have any more updates on her condition." He turned on his heel and left the room, not without sparing the two a last perplexed look.

Derek waited until Sheriff Stilinski was out of earshot before turning his attention back to Scott. "You lied about Stiles. Where's he really?"

Guilt came off Scott in waves as he dug out his phone. "He's at The Jungle with Danny. I completely forgot about him until his dad showed up." He held his phone to his ear, listening as it rang and rang and went to voice mail. Frowning, Scott sent out a quick text and tried calling again, getting only voice mail.

Derek frowned at Scott. The Jungle? Wasn't that the gay club he'd followed Jackson into?

Scott tried two more times and sent three more texts before turning pleading eyes onto Derek. "Could you do me a favor and go check on him? He's not answering me at all and he promised he'd have his phone on him in case anything happened with the Alphas. I hope nothing's happened to him," Scott said to himself as he sent off another text. "Danny's not answering either," he huffed, looking torn between wanting to stay with his mom and going out to make sure his friends were alright.

Derek sighed. The least he could do was take the decision out of Scott's hands. "I'll go check on him. Why's he there anyways?" he asked curiously. He hadn't thought Stiles swung that way. He hadn't really considered which way Stiles swung, to be honest.

"He wanted to blow off some steam," Scott said, finally giving up and tucking his phone back into his pocket. "He's been pretty high strung since we had had him watch Allison's building a few days ago. I dunno… He hasn't been himself lately. I think Lydia and Max getting together set him off. He said he was gonna try something new and see how goes, but…" he trailed off, looking unconvinced.

Standing with a put-upon sigh, Derek headed for the hallway, stopping when Scott called his name.

Scott was staring at him with a grateful half smile on his face. "Thank you."

Derek nodded and made his way back to his car, amazed that after all the things he'd done for Scott, checking up on his friend was the only thing he'd gotten a 'thank you' for.

If finding The Jungle was easy, getting into the place was even easier. The bouncer had let him in without even bothering to check his I.D.

Guess he knew how two underage boys had made it in.

The room was packed with sweaty dancing men (and even a few women). Laser lights bounced erratically off the walls, ceilings, and the fog that drifted through the club. The whole scene was enough to make Derek's senses hurt. It was too loud with too many people, but he gritted his teeth and wove his way through the crowd, his ass groped more than once.

It would have been flattering if Derek cared.

After ten minutes of wading through drunk and horny gay men, Derek gave up searching the main floor and aimed for the bathroom. If he wasn't in the club, then Derek would have to call Scott to tell him that his friend was missing and that was something he preferred to avoid tonight (adding insult to injury would be the icing on the wonderfulness that was this evening).

That's when he spotted Stiles in a corner near the bathroom.

Well, now that he was closer he could see him. The man he was grinding with had effectively blocked the teen from view. If it wasn't for the fact that Derek was a werewolf and could toss the man around like a rag doll, he might have been more worried about pulling him off of Stiles. As it was, Derek didn't care one iota as he grabbed Tall, Dark, and Muscled (and Half Naked) by the back of his belt and yanked him off the teen he'd been trying to rut into wall.

The way the man slid backwards across the floor nearly made him smile— at least until Stiles blinked around in confusion at the loss of Tall, Dark, and Muscled and scowled when he discovered Derek standing a yard away.

"What the _fuck_, dude?" Stiles slurred.

Derek nearly shied away at the reek of alcohol on the teen's breath, but then Tall, Dark, and Muscled was back and Derek moved in front of Stiles, shielding him as the man bore down on Derek, getting in his face.

"Get your own twink, jackass," Tall, Dark, and Muscled said aggressively, his biceps bulging as he flexed them menacingly at Derek.

Derek smiled condescendingly at him. "I think I just did."

Tall, Dark, and Muscled didn't like that at all and he swung his meaty fist at Derek's face, which the Alpha easily blocked and used to whirl the man around and push him back into the crowd, knocking down a guy in a fishnet tank top. Tall, Dark, and Muscled didn't seem to like that either.

Neither did Stiles apparently.

"_Dude_, knock it off," Stiles whined, tugging at Derek's shirt.

At first, Derek thought Stiles was grabbing his shirt to get his attention, but when the teen's legs went out from under him, Derek realized that Stiles had been trying to hold himself up. He caught the teen before his knees could hit the floor, hauling Stiles up against his chest. Stiles's head lolled on his shoulder and a groan tickled Derek's collarbone. There was a hardness pressing against his thigh that Derek didn't have time to think about because Stiles's breath wafted into his face again and, this time, he caught an underlying sourness that differed from alcohol.

"What did you give him?" Derek shot at Tall, Dark, and Muscled who was stalking back over.

Tall, Dark, and Muscled paused, uncertainty weakening his mask of belligerence. "What? I didn't give anything to him."

But Derek heard the man's heartbeat stutter with the lie and he had to pull his anger back before his eyes could flash red. "You _do_ realize you drugged a _minor_, don't you?"

Tall, Dark, and Muscled blanched and backed up a few paces, his arms raised defensively. "Hey, I thought he was legal—"

"And you _still_ drugged him?" Derek interrupted, bitingly. "You're that hard up for a lay that you have to _roofie_ one?"

By now, the people dancing near them were all watching (Derek wasn't bothering to keep his voice down either) and a queen in a flowing blonde wig stomped up to Tall, Dark, and Muscled, waving her manicured talon about an inch from his eye. "You need to go. Now. We don't need trash like you in here. Tyrell!" she yelled at a bouncer halfway across the room, flapping her hand at him to get his attention, "Get this scrub out the club!" she yelled, still pointing at Tall, Dark, Muscled (and Scared).

Tall, Dark, and Muscled allowed himself to be escorted out, giving Derek and Stiles an ugly look. "Like I _needed_ to roofie the little slut," he shot as the bouncer led him towards the entrance.

Anger boiled beneath Derek's skin, but he settled with a silent glare. He'd gotten Stiles away from him and that was all that mattered.

A few guys and the queen who had stood up to the loser crowded close asking if they were alright. The concern welcome, but Derek was starting to feel claustrophobic and the way Stiles's head still lolled around was making him worry. How much did the guy give him?

"Stiles!"

Derek clutched the teen tighter to his chest, but he relaxed minutely when he recognized the mocha-skinned young man who squeezed through the crowd to his side. What was his name? Davey? Donny?

"Mm…hey Danny," Stiles slurred.

Danny, that was it. The guy Stiles had practically pimped Derek out to in order to track down Peter.

"Miguel, right?" Danny asked him, when he noticed who was holding Stiles.

Derek didn't bother to correct him. "You the one he's here with?" he asked, letting a bit of his anger to slip into his voice. A lot more could have happened to Stiles tonight if Derek hadn't shown up and his_ friend_ hadn't even bothered to _watch_ him.

Danny shrugged, suddenly wary of Derek's hostility. "We came together, yeah, but not _together_. He was doing his thing and I was doing mine."

"Yeah, well his _thing_ roofied him and could have done a lot more," Derek said snarled. He didn't know why he was so worked up. Stiles was safe. But there was a lot of anger inside him and Danny was a pretty good target for it right now.

"Uh, no offense," Danny countered defensively, "but I kinda got the impression that that's what he wanted."

Okay, that was it. "I'm taking him home," Derek said angrily, adjusting his hold on Stiles so that the teen was slung in his arms. He didn't care about Stiles's pride, he wasn't about to wait for the teen to relearn how to walk. Derek wound his way towards the entrance, careful to mind Stiles's head. It wasn't until after he'd buckled the teen into the front seat that he turned his attention back to Danny, who had followed them out into the parking lot.

"Look, I'm sorry about your cousin. To be honest, if he hadn't begged me to take him along, I wouldn't have brought him, but I know what it's like to want to forget someone so I figured let him try." Danny said, apologetic despite how his eyes roved over Derek's chest.

Derek shook his head as he crossed over to the driver's side door. "All this just to forget Lydia?"

Danny looked at him, surprised. "No, he's been over her for months. I think Stiles said his name was Derek? The guy he was trying to forget? I was kinda half paying attention."

Derek froze with his key in the driver's door lock. What? He stepped back to look through the window at Stiles, but the teen was slumped over, out cold. _What?_ "You're _sure_ he said 'Derek'?" he asked Danny, not taking his eyes off Stiles in case the teen was feigning sleep, but his heart beat stayed steady.

"Yeah, pretty sure. Or something that sounded like it. He was going on about how the guy was with a girl around his own age. I got the impression that he was older."

Derek's stomach dropped unpleasantly. Unless there was a _serious_ misunderstanding…

"I dunno. The only Derek I could think of was Derek Hale, but that didn't seem like Stiles's M.O. Unless he's going through a bad boy phase," Danny chuckled. "But either way, the dude must be something special to get Stiles wound up about him."

Derek frowned and looked Danny. "Why do you say that?"

Danny was silent for a moment, weighing his words. "Stiles has only ever had eyes for Lydia. Like, _ever_. I just… I get the feeling that, when he falls, he falls hard. That's kinda why I had second thoughts about him coming out here to find someone else. You can't change how you love and…it felt like Stiles was trying to do it anyway." And with that, he walked back to the club, vanishing back into the pounding bass and flashing lights.

Leaving Derek alone with a drugged teenager and an understanding he wasn't sure he wanted.


End file.
